


With Time Even This Will Fade (Or So They Say)

by MapacheLuna



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Drabble, M/M, Someone dies, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-06-01 00:25:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6493705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MapacheLuna/pseuds/MapacheLuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s nineteen, young, had only been mated for two years; his chances of moving on are high, he’s heard people say. </p>
<p>He’s lucky. </p>
<p>It could be worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Time Even This Will Fade (Or So They Say)

**Author's Note:**

> So I got a prompt: "Oh damn, here i am with angst. What happens in the hq!! a/b/o verse if one of each destined mate dies? B) like iwa with akaashi, bokuto with kenma, oikawa with kuroo? What would happen with them??"
> 
> And I really liked it. 
> 
> (Is this what you all meant when you said more A/B/O?? :D)
> 
> ((Disclaimer that while I prefer to write in the past tense, I've been challenging myself to do most of my Tumblr drabbles in the present tense for more versatility. So hopefully this reads fine; I would have changed it to the past before publishing it, but I felt that it worked better like this~))
> 
> EDIT: [Ginger](http://lafginger.tumblr.com/) did it again!! She drew an amazing comic to go along with this fic [here](http://gings-art.tumblr.com/post/142775141083/hey-i-did-my-first-comic-ever-xd-here-is-in-just), that I HIGHLY recommend everyone go and check out, and then shower her with some well-deserved love and affection~

It was an accident. 

Oikawa is walking back to the apartment he shares with Kuroo, absently thinking about what they’re going to eat that night, trying to decide if he’s willing to put up with Kuroo laughing at his attempts to cook, or if he was just going to have to suck up his pride and order takeout…and put up with Kuroo laughing at him anyway.

He’s pulling his phone out to check his messages and his pout deepens when he sees that the last message from Kuroo was still, _your hair is sticking up in the back, you dork_ (he’d responded _At least **I**  still look respectable and cute, unlike **some**  rooster-heads I know_). He’s about to send Kuroo a message asking if he was home yet (it still makes butterflies flutter in his stomach, the thought that they have a “home,” just the two of them, even if it’s just a tiny little student apartment with a drafty window for now), when he realizes that there’s some sort of commotion going on near the street. The smells of surprise and shock hit him first, but then there’s sorrow and _blood_ , and he finds himself jogging up to the crowd before he really realizes he’s doing it, hand flexing around his phone, ready to call for help if he needs to.

But then he recognizes the scent, and now he’s running, pushing people out of the way, panic and bile crawling up his throat because no, that can’t be right, it’s not possible, this can’t be happening to him-

He’s distantly aware of people trying to grab him, but he shrugs them off easily enough, and eventually they stop trying -he thinks he hears someone say, “That’s his mate” but he can’t be sure, because all of a sudden he’s standing in the middle of the circle and nothing else matters because _his entire world_  is lying on the ground, scarily still, and there’s _red_  matting his black messy hair to his temple, and it’s wrong, wrong wrong wrong-

Oikawa drops to his knees and whimpers. “Tetsu-chan?” When he doesn’t get an answer, he sets a trembling hand on his chest -the very same broad chest that he’d curled up against just last night, purring at the way the heat emitting from it had shielded him from their drafty window- and he almost yanks it away right then, because it was _cold_ , cold and unmoving and unnatural; Kuroo would never just lie there while Oikawa’s scent flooded with fear and panic, no, he would react immediately, pulling him close, or tugging him behind him and asking him what was wrong, voice low and and full of care, this still and pale version of his mate _wasn’t right_.

Oikawa puts his other hand on his chest, giving him a gentle shake. “Wake up.” No reaction. “Please, get up.” He could smell the faint scent of shock lingering over Kuroo, already fading quickly and leaving a stale mimicry of his usual scent behind. “Tetsurou!” Kuroo’s pale and lax face is getting blurry, and he has no idea if it’s tears or shock settling in, but either way he can’t bring himself to care; he just wants his mate to open his eyes and mock him about his failed attempts to make them dinner. “Please-!” The word gets stuck in his throat, thick and watery, and he can’t breathe, he _doesn’t want to_ , because he isn’t responding and everything in him is screaming that he just lost his alpha, that he’s a widow at nineteen, that they had their whole lives ahead of them and now he’s _gone_ -

-And he’s dropping onto Kuroo’s chest with a scream, pain just growing when the boy under him just barely jostles with his weight, muscles soft and unresponsive to the crying omega. “Please! Please please please-” 

Everything after that becomes blurry and hazy, flickering in his memories like skipping reels (the grief counselor tells him later that it’s shock, and that he may never fully get those memories back, and he can’t help but secretly be thankful for that), but he remembers familiar scents -pack- swarming around him at one point, the most prevalent being alpha, but this pack alpha - _Iwa-chan_ - tried to pull him off his _mate_ , and he can’t have that, he can’t replace his mate’s scent with another alpha’s, and he screams, curling his fingers into the shirt underneath him, and there’s shouts and panicking scents spiking around him for a while after that before everything finally fades to grey to black, and the last thing he sees is Kuroo’s bond mark, stark and striking against the unnatural pallor of his neck.

* * *

 

The grief counselor tells him that what he’s feeling is normal and natural: the pain in his chest, the lack of appetite, the apathy. She tells him that while most of the really impeding symptoms would fade with a little time -his body needs to metabolize the stress hormones and stabilize after the shock his system took to losing his bond mate after all,- he would still carry the weight of the loss with him, possibly for the rest of his life. His chances of bonding with another alpha were entirely contingent on him, but it may never be as strong as what he’d had with Kuroo.

He appreciated her honesty then, and he still does now, one month after... _it_. His friends were worried, of course they were, but he’d asked the counselor to talk to them too; Kuroo was- _had_ been pack, they were suffering too. And maybe they’d be able to understand him a little better afterwards too; none of them had lost mates, and he fervently hopes they never do, irrational as it is, but he's exhausted all the time and just doesn’t have the energy to smile and reassure them that he’ll bounce back, especially when he doesn’t think that he can.

He’s curled up on their- _his_  bed now, his breathe the only sound echoing in the room, a steady cadence that only serves as a cruel reminder of all the extra time he’d been granted, and that Kuroo no longer shared. 

He buries his face deeper into the shirt he’d pulled out earlier, one of the last ones still hanging on _his_  side of the closet, one of the last things in the apartment that still smelled like his alpha. It's a hollow comfort, especially when he remembers that eventually, even _he’d_ stop smelling like Kuroo, except for the faint metallic stain in his scent that would follow him forever, a frozen remnant of the mark his dead mate left on him. 

He’s nineteen, young, had only been mated for two years; his chances of moving on are high, he’s heard people say. He’s lucky. It could be worse.

The wind whistles through the drafty window and nips at the drying trails of water on his face, unbothered and unhindered. 

Oikawa closes his eyes and breathes.

**Author's Note:**

> SO, how many of you didn't think I could write angst?


End file.
